


He Sees, He Knows

by Akiko_Natsuko



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fear, Gen, Memories, Protectiveness, Spoilers for Episode 87, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:00:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21698878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akiko_Natsuko/pseuds/Akiko_Natsuko
Summary: He sees. He knows.Caleb is drowning, swept away by what those three little words mean. It’s no comfort when Ikithon keeps walking away, not even glancing back to see the impact that his words have had on him. He doesn’t need to, and Caleb feels himself splinter just a little more at that realisation, at the further confirmation that nothing has changed.
Comments: 15
Kudos: 243





	He Sees, He Knows

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that if you want to talk to me about my fics and writing, or anime/shows/games in general then you can now find me on discord [The Unholy Trinity](https://discord.gg/sPa25ynH9q).

_Trent Ikithon was there._

Caleb knew that he should be paying more attention to the discussion around him, and the task that they were being given, but the words were coming to him in dribs and drabs. Enough for him to get the gist of what was happening, and to even offer a few words here and there, although he didn’t recognise his own voice when it came out. But it was all distant like he was watching someone else go through the motions, while his focus was locked on the one person, he had been hoping and praying that they wouldn’t meet here. He should have known that it was futile. After all, what God would grant his wish? Still, he had been woefully unprepared to walk into this room and find himself face to face with his past, all while their future rested on a knife-edge, and right in front of the King.

Sweat was slipping down his neck, and he hoped it blended with the rest of the mess from the battle, as he fought to stop himself from twisting his hands together. He wanted Frumpkin. He wanted to be a million miles away, as his heartbeat filled his ears, blocking out everything else. _He’s here. He’s here._ He had nearly come undone when those eyes had landed on him for a fleeting second, and it was only the fact that the others were with him, and that his fate was bound to theirs in this matter that stopped him shattering or turning and bolting. It was a hard-won battle.

_He knows. He sees me._

His fingers itched to rise to the necklace around his neck or to reach for Nott and Beau who still knew more than the others, but he couldn’t. Not here. Not under his eyes. Instead, he found himself retreating into the sanctuary of his own mind, listing components and the spells they were for, only to falter… because it was the same thing, he had done with Ikithon, trying to distract his mind from the agony of the crystals slipping beneath his skin.

_Nothing has changed._

His heart rate was increasing, a chill that had nothing to do with where they were stood washing over him, and it felt to him as though he could barely breathe. He shouldn’t have come here. He had feared this and yet what choice had they had? _‘There’s always a choice Bren, you just might not like what happens if you make the wrong one.’_ Ikithon was speaking now, the same voice that had haunted his memories and nightmares for so long, and it twisted in his thoughts, words from long ago coming back to him and Caleb felt as though he was going to be sick. His gaze flickered towards the older man, half-hidden as he kept his head bowed, before skittering away again, this time finding Yasha. That helped a little. Grounded him. It reminded him that while there hadn’t really been a choice – the price had been worth it…he hoped, fingers clawing at his sleeves as there was a break in the conversation, and he waited for Ikithon’s attention to turn to him.

It didn’t.

Instead, the conversation lulled and broke, the audience at an end, leaving them free to move away from the King and his advisors. Away from Trent. In a way that was worse, because they weren’t free to leave, and Allura was there, talking to them. Demanding his focus, when all he could think about was the man stood far too close to comfort behind them. _He’s here. He sees. He knows._ He could feel the others glancing at him, staying close, as protective as they could be in a place where all eyes were on them, waiting to see on which side their loyalties fell. _He’s here. He sees. He knows._ The nausea was rising again, a pressure in his throat. His heart a drumbeat in his chest and he loses track of the conversation again, caught halfway between past and present, his mind and emotions all over the place, and he’s sure that everyone must be able to hear his heartbeat by now.

It was almost a shock when Allura moves away, and he catches the final part about them resting – much needed – because the icy burn of the panic gripping him, he can feel the throbbing wounds from the battle, and the exhaustion that is threatening to dull his thoughts when the adrenaline fades. Although the idea, that they might only have a night before plunging into trying to broker a peace – even if that had been what he had been somewhat aiming for since that moment in the Bright Queen’s chamber – is almost as overwhelming as everything else.

Almost.

Because there is movement behind them, and everything in Caleb freezes, like a rabbit caught out in the open and aware of the fox looming over it a split second too late. _He’s here. He knows. He sees._ He can’t move, can’t breathe, can’t think. Distantly he’s aware of the others pressing close to him. Jester, who is still so adamant that there is good in him - _but what if she knew…?_ – Moving to stand in front of him, tail lashing behind her. There’s a towering warmth at his back, Caduceus looming protectively behind him, while Beau presses close to his side, framing him, deliberately brushing his shoulder to ground him as though she is aware of how close he is to flying apart on the inside. She probably is. The others are closing in too, protection that he doesn’t deserve.

“Impressive business isn’t it.” Ikithon’s voice is silk and oil, after all, he has an act to follow here, for all that the cards are stacked in his favour considering their current status. And it’s like Caleb’s past is whispering to him, because he knows that there is danger in that tone, fangs beneath the charm, and he can’t move or look or breathe. _He’s here. He sees. He knows._ “You’ve come far from simple sellswords and pit fighters.” To an outsider, it might sound like praise. For Caleb, it’s like a death knell because there is a knowing in those words, a certainty that turns his blood to ice.

_He knows._

There’s a pause, and Caleb risks a glance, just in time to catch Ikithon glancing towards Yasha. Tensing. Remembering how he had shown interest in her back in Zadash, and something sparks beneath the fear for the briefest of seconds – because he can’t let her go through what he endured. He won’t. It’s a breath lived defiance, because then Ikithon is moving and turning away from them, and Caleb tries to breathe, only for the next words to slam into him like a tidal wave.

“Especially you, Bren…”

_He sees. He knows._ Caleb is drowning, swept away by what those three little words mean. It’s no comfort when Ikithon keeps walking away, not even glancing back to see the impact that his words have had on him. He doesn’t need to, and Caleb feels himself splinter just a little more at that realisation, at the further confirmation that nothing has changed. He is still bound to the man. Still, the Bren who had served and broken beneath Ikithon’s control. He’s still the man who was a monster of another’s making, still a weapon, a tool. There is a roaring in his ears, and he’s not sure if it’s his heartbeat anymore, or the sound of the world crumbling around him.

“I don’t like him,” Jester whispered, the sound of her voice breaking through the roaring sound and Caleb almost laughed then. Managing to choke it back for fear that it would turn into something more, feeling himself teetering on the edge of a cliff. There’s a hand on his shoulder now. _Beau._ He can’t bring himself to look at her, even as he blindly reaches up to clasp it, searching desperately for an anchor, because if he falls now…

There’s a flurry of whispered words. Cursing. They’re angry and protective, and yet it seems to Caleb that they’re coming from a great distance. As though with those three little words Ikithon has pulled him out of step with the life that he’d forged for himself, the world he’d built with them, and it hurts, and burns, and he’s shivering and sweating, leaning into Beau as he feels himself shatter a little more. _He knows. He sees._ Oh god, he knew…and had seen all of them now. Had seen how they had gathered around him, willing to protect him, to fight, even when outnumbered. He knew just how to hurt Caleb, just as he had hurt Bren…and this time Caleb wasn’t sure it was something he could come back from, and his chest hurt, breathing becoming laboured as his panic intensified.

“Should I go kill him?” It was Yasha’s voice this time that cut through the panic, rolling over him like thunder on an open plain. _Yes. No. Maybe._ He wanted to be able to say the first, to trust that Yasha with her rage and thunder and faith could do what he wasn’t sure that he would ever be able to do. Just as he knew that if his voice were working, it would have been the second that crept out – because Ikithon was too powerful, too intelligent, and all Caleb could see as he blinked, was Yasha’s eyes and expression blank once more, her will bound to another’s once more, and this time it would be his fault.

The others were saying it for him. Caution guiding their words, but he could hear and feel the anger in their words, in the way they looked in the direction that Ikithon had taken. They were ready to throw down if it was necessary, prepared to fight for him… that hurt in a whole different way, because they didn’t know everything, he had made sure of that.

_But if they did…_

_…would they still be here?_

He was shivering again, shaking so hard that he wasn’t sure that he could bear it. Then there was an arm around his shoulders. “Let’s get out of here,” Beau murmured in his ear. Then there was a hand on the small of his back, large, but unfailingly gentle as Caduceus urged them forward, and Yasha and Fjord were falling into step on either side, Jester leading the way with frequent glances back at him – worried and caring, while Nott fell back, guarding their rear. Watching his back.

He was still splintering, and shattering, made undone by those three little words even though he had tried to tell himself that he was nearly ready to confront his past. And he knew, even as they were guided from the chamber and towards their lodgings for the night, that he would have to speak out now. To let them see what lay beneath the surface, lay everything bare and take whatever reactions they flung in his direction. But, for the moment, with Beau supporting him and the rest of their makeshift family around them, he found that he could breathe just a little easier and that the splintering was slowing just a little.


End file.
